


The Beginning of Sunny Days

by Dragon8Blade



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, References to Depression, past injury scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon8Blade/pseuds/Dragon8Blade
Summary: Takes place about a month after Claret Sword's war ends (direct sequel to Gurguit's 05/2016 novel lore).Gurguit finds comfort in Vortimer's presence.  Vortimer finds that the two of them are a lot more alike than either of them might've thought.





	The Beginning of Sunny Days

**Author's Note:**

> Necessary to read before this fic:  
> http://cardfight.wikia.com/wiki/Card_Lores:Sunrise_Ray_Knight,_Gurguit (the whole fic follows from the ALMOST end part of this)  
> http://cardfight.wikia.com/wiki/Card_Lores:Whirlwind_of_Darkness,_Vortimer_%22Diablo%22
> 
> Other lores referenced include Claret’s, Spectral Duke’s, and a few others.

 

 

“Wait!”

Gurguit calls out to the disappearing black knight without thinking.

Vortimer halts his teleportation magic in response to the voice of the knight behind him.  “It is as I said; I should not be here right now.”

“W-will you stay for dinner?  I’d like to treat you to a meal before you leave…to thank you for……for helping me.”  Gurguit speaks quickly without much thinking, knowing that Vortimer would disappear if given even a moment’s hesitation.  As quickly as the words left his mouth, he thinks maybe that was a slightly embarrassing question to impose on someone he had just met (and tried to arrest) less than a few hours ago.

Fortunately for him,

“* _ sigh _ * I suppose I can stay for a quick meal before departing.”

…Vortimer hasn’t actually had a proper meal all day.  And having his previous teleportation spell interrupted, he’d need to wait sometime before being able to use it again.

“Are we all gonna go eat now?  Yay!” Chrono Dran leapt into the air excitedly, settling onto Vortimer’s shoulder.

“I’m going to take Coel back to the barracks first.  It seems he’s still a bit dazed from the fight earlier.”  Gurguit moves to help Coel onto his feet as Vortimer makes a whistling noise, summoning forth a large black horse.

“Whoa, where did this come from?!”  Gurguit, taken by surprise backs away just a bit.

“Just behind that building, around the corner.  I’m surprised you didn’t notice. What would you have done if I was a criminal attempting to escape?”  Vortimer mounts his steed, motioning for Gurguit to help Coel on. “Give me the directions. I’ll take him back and meet you back here.”

“You don’t know where the Gold Paladin barracks are?  Even though you’re in the capital?!”

“I…haven’t been around these parts in quite some time…” which…wasn’t a lie.

“Ah, right…ok, I’ll send you a map then?” Gurguit takes out his phone and…

“Just show it to me on yours, I can remember it.” Vortimer says quickly, in an attempt to hide the fact that he doesn’t actually have a phone on him, which would be beyond suspicious.

As he heads off towards the barracks, Gurguit and Chrono Dran sit down to rest for a bit.

“Guruguru!  Do you have a horse like that too?”

“Mounted combat isn’t my specialty.  I prefer to fight on foot.”

“But riding a horse looks like so much fun!  And he looks so cool!”

“Uhhh, maybe in the future…”  Gurguit had to admit that Vortimer did look really cool riding on a horse equipped with sleek black armor matching Vortimer’s own.  “ _ Maybe appearances are important to troop morale” _ , he thinks as he mentally makes a note to request a new combat uniform design.

 

* * *

 

When Vortimer returns, he’s removed his helmet and donned a plain black cloak over his armor.   _ “He really is handsome…” _ Gurguit thinks, as he finds himself staring at the black knight’s long flowing hair and piercing green eyes.

“Hmm?  Is something wrong?”  Vortimer waits atop his mount, Chrono Dran already perched on his shoulder and ready to go.

“Ah, n-no not at all!  Shall we get going?” Gurguit stutters a bit as he turns his eyes away, apparently embarrassed to be caught staring at the other.

They go to a nearby tavern; a small but fairly popular place among locals.  It’s owned by a former knight; a kind man who often dispenses advice and offers support for the younger generation of paladins.

Gurguit finds them a table and at Dran’s request, they order a large assortment of meat dishes.  When the food arrives, it barely all fits on the table. The tavern owner approaches their table.

“Heard you’ve been having a rough time lately.  Hang in there, kid! Here, a cold one on the house for you and your friend!”  He sets two bottles of beer on the table and gives Gurguit a supportive smile.

“Thanks!”

 

Dinner time proves to be eventful, between the lively atmosphere of the tavern, and an excited Chrono Dran alternating between devouring meat and asking Gurguit various questions about the paladins and the United Sanctuary.  They’re mostly ‘common knowledge’ questions for paladins of the capital; recent events, daily life, places and things… 

But Vortimer is glad that Dran asks these questions; he was only briefed on the most important ‘need to know’ bits upon his awakening, but he found himself wanting to know more about the current times.  Listening to Gurguit talk excitedly about combat training, summer festivals, Dragon Empire invasions…it felt almost as if time had stood still while Vortimer slept.  _ “Even the food tastes about the same as in my time…”   _ Part of him is relieved that even with the passing of a few hundred years, a lot of things are still the same.  He’s glad that this is still the same United Sanctuary that he called home, the same nation that he swore to protect…and in that moment, the loneliness he had felt since his awakening dissipated, just a bit.  “Some things don’t change, huh?”

A plate of roast beef and half a beer later, Gurguit finally asks a dreaded question:

“So, uh….Sir Vortimer, what brings you back to the capital?  You mentioned having been away for some time…for work?”

Vortimer, who had been mostly silent until now nearly spits out his drink.  “* _ coughs _ * There’s no need to be so formal.  J-Just Vortimer, is fine…” He’s stalling for time.  He has no idea how to answer this question and honestly, hasn’t thought about it until now.

_ ‘It’s not like I planned on having dinner with a high ranked Gold Paladin today or actually talking about myself at all during my time in the Sanctuary.  Hell, I should’ve left earlier probably. Wow, great going, me, you fucked it up. What was I thinking?! What are you gonna say now? Oh hey, actually I’ve just been sleeping in a basement for the last few hundred years?  This is a loaded question, there’s no way to answer this without heading down a slippery slope of lies. And gosh, I’m not even good at lying—’ _

“My absence was, work related…yes.”  Which isn’t a lie. Short answer; less is more.

“You weren’t involved in the recent civil war at all?”  Gurguit continues his line of questioning. Honestly, today is the first he’s heard of Shadow Paladins still working on the side of the king in this day and age.

“No, Claret Sword’s rebellion had nothing to do with me.”

“I see…” Gurguit takes a hint from the short and tense answers and decides maybe he shouldn’t probe too much about the inner workings of the remaining members of Shadow Paladin.

There’s a brief moment of silence at the table (save for Chrono Dran’s * _ chomp _ * sounds of eating).

“Actually, I was once a Gold Paladin.”  Vortimer breaks the silence. He knows this time he might be digging a hole for himself, but still felt like he needed to say it at some point.  Maybe he can hold this conversation while taking caution to avoid talking about the days exclusive to the old Gold Paladin militia.

“You were…a Gold Paladin?!” 

It’s now Gurguit’s turn to be caught off guard.  Although, at this comment, even Chrono Dran stopped eating to listen.  “I’ve never seen you around the garrison before…wait, how old are you?!”  Gurguit’s sure that over the years he’s seen at least every member of Gold Paladin at least ONCE or so.  And there’s no way he didn’t notice someone this strong (and this pretty) in the order…unless it was before he himself became a paladin…

“N-not much older than you, probably.”  Vortimer replies, having readied himself for this question.  Also not a lie, counting his physical/mental age, anyways. At least, he doesn’t think he’s aged while sleeping in that basement.  “I was part of a special force, so it’s possible we’ve never seen each other until today.” Another ‘not a lie’.

“Your fighting style….I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“My mentor was a Shadow Paladin.”

“Did you wear all that shiny gold armor too!?” asks Dran.

“No, I didn’t.  Like I said, special forces team.”  Vortimer’s glad he’s never had to wear the gaudy gold armor that would later be favored by the Liberators troop.  Just because he had to work with them doesn’t mean he had to dress like one.

“When did you leave the Gold Paladins?  And for what reason?” Gurguit asks.

“I am needed elsewhere now.  It’s an important task; possibly something only someone like me could do…”  Vortimer answers firmly and honestly.

Gurguit, sensing an unshakable resolve and sense of purpose from the black knight, doesn’t press any further.

The rest of dinner was nowhere near as heavy, consisting mostly of casual conversations about fluffy high beasts, funding fiascos, and funny incidents during training…all the stuff that hasn’t really changed over the years.  Vortimer is grateful for the company of the young knight and the small dragon. The lighthearted conversation makes him feel less detached and more at home in the current era.

They go for another round of drinks and split a large dessert (Dran insisted) before everyone’s full and ready to head home.

“Thanks for the food!  Bye!” Dran flies off, carrying with him, probably at least half his own weight in leftovers.

Meanwhile, Gurguit has gone from mildly drunk to emotionally drunk to… _ ”wait, is he passed out?!  He’s had less than two beers, what the hell?”   _ Vortimer suddenly notices that Gurguit, who’s been leaning on his shoulder for the past fifteen minutes, is now drooling and lightly snoring.

The tavern owner, cleaning a table nearby informs him “Oh, that kid can’t handle his booze at all.  Usually, I call a friend to take him home, but since you’re here today, mind escorting him instead?”

“I can do that.”  At this point, Vortimer doesn’t have the heart to say no.

“I worry about him sometimes, but it looks like he had a good time today!  I haven’t seen him laugh and smile like that in a while!”

Hearing the owner’s words, and taking a look at Gurguit’s sleeping face (it’s kinda cute really), Vortimer REALLY doesn’t have the heart to say no anymore.

 

* * *

 

The ride back to the barracks is thankfully, a short one.  The listless and half-asleep Gurguit was mostly squirmy and uncooperative when it came to trying to get him to stay on a horse without falling off.

Gurguit mumbles unintelligibly during the short journey and just barely, Vortimer can make out a few sentences…something about a cat named Sleimy?

When they reached the barracks, Gurguit was still passed out and it took Vortimer a great deal of effort to drag (essentially carry) him through the lobby (pausing briefly to check the directory for which floor he lived on), and up to his apartment unit.

“Gurguit, where’s your card key?”

“…….zzzz” Unresponsive.

“Gurguit, wake up.  You’re back home. Where’s your key?”

“…….zzzzzz…..”  Still no answer.

_ “Maybe I’ll knock on another door and hand this kid over to a fellow knight…no, I should limit my direct exposure to other knights here in the capital…it’s a good thing there’s nobody in the hallway right now……Do I just leave him here?  No, I can’t just do that…” _

Vortimer lets out a sigh and mutters a swear word or two as he starts searching Gurguit’s person for his door key.  He’s glad nobody is around.  _ “For gods sake it looks like I’m trying to rob him…or molest him.”   _ The awkwardly thorough pat down continues for another minute before Vortimer realizes that the card key is probably just integrated with the ID tag on Gurguit’s wrist.   _ “Son of a---“ _

 

Vortimer tosses Gurguit onto the bed as soon as he finds it.  He didn’t think carrying an unconscious person could be so damn tiring.  Honestly, he doesn’t know how Gurguit is this trashed from how much he had to drink.  Maybe he’s exhausted from the attempts at stride fusion as well…

_ “I better leave before he wakes up—“ _

“…hmm……Vortimer?”  Or not.

“You should drink some water and get some rest.”  Vortimer advises.

“...I…guess I rest first.”  Gurguit mutters before flopping face first into his pillow.

“Hey, hold on, don’t sleep with your armor on!  With all the armaments on yours, you’ll get mana sickness by tomorrow morning!”

“…don’t care.”

“The shield generators need to recharge overnight, don’t they?”

“I’ll do it later…”

“*sigh* I’ll help you remove your armor.”  Vortimer speaks as if coddling a child.

“mmm…ok.”  Gurguit sits upright somewhat, still a bit dazed.

Vortimer takes off his own armor first, setting it in a corner.  He figures he might as well rest for an hour or so before heading out.  Then he goes to help Gurguit with his.

As he began removing the golden armor, he notices how light and well fitted it is.  Vortimer briefly wonders what year it was when sleeping in your armor finally became more favorable than taking it off.  As absurd as he found sleeping in full armor to be, he drops the train of thought, realizing he might have actually taken a century long ‘nap’ in the diablo armor.

The armor of the paladins may have gotten more comfortable over the course of the last few hundred years, but the advances in technology have done nothing to remedy the uncomfortable political environment that surrounded the order of knights.  Being a captain meant not only taking responsibility for the lives of all the knights in one’s own troop but also dealing with the higher ups, not just other knights, but council members and aristocrats that provided funding for the knights as well.

_ “He isn’t any older than I was when I led the Black Horse Troop during the Liberation Wars…” _ Vortimer notes, eyes glancing over to the medicine bottles on the nightstand; a quick skim over the labels reveals a familiar sight.  Memories of his own early days as a Gold Paladin captain resurface; the stress, the anxiety, the constant feeling of being inadequate as a leader, the sleepless nights spent wondering if you were doing too much or too little...   _ “Some things really don’t change, it seems.” _

Vortimer finishes removing Gurguit’s armor, and after putting it away, fetches a comfortable looking change of clothes.  He sits back down on the bed and starts removing Gurguit’s bodysuit and other layers under his armor. As he unzips the back of the suit, the sight that befalls Vortimer is enough to make him clench his fists in anger and disgust.

An enormous scar, at least as long as his back was wide…from a stab wound, dealt with a fairly large weapon…and judging by the marks present on the scar, it was a weapon imbued with forbidden spells meant to obstruct the flow of healing magic…no doubt, a Shadow Paladin’s…

Gurguit, even in his current state, must have noticed Vortimer’s reaction, as he spoke without turning around “Oh…that.  It’s…unsightly, isn’t it? If I was stronger then, if I-“

“No.  It’s not.  It isn’t unsightly.  And…you’re still here…still alive…for that, you’re already strong.” Vortimer doesn’t know what else to say…

When Gurguit finally turns around to look at Vortimer, there are tears in his eyes.  Without thinking, Vortimer pulls him into a hug. “If you need to cry, don’t hold back.”  

And for the second time that day, Gurguit cries; loudly, without care for appearances, and from the bottom of his heart.

He’s still crying when Vortimer finishes changing his clothes.

He’s still crying as Vortimer brings over a cup of water and a box of tissues.

He’s still crying when Vortimer sits down on the bed, and lets Gurguit lay his head on his lap.

He calms down a bit after a while, just enough to start pouring his heart out in words.  Vortimer listens as Gurguit rambles somewhat drunkenly about his own life. He tells Vortimer about the investigation team’s defeat at the hands of Claret Sword, and his own injury sustained then.  He tells him about how he had to spend most of the war recovering. He tells him about how he wished to fight alongside Altmile and the others, so badly that he didn’t care if he died. He tells him how he was saved by a strange teleportation magic when his wounds reopened and he had nearly given up.  He tells him of the shame and endless stream of insults he endured in the following months.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that Vortimer was an outsider to the recent events that occurred within the nation, but Gurguit found himself able to tell him about all sorts of things he hadn’t been able to say to anyone else before.

By the time he’s fully calmed down, Vortimer has spent some time crying as well. 

“Hey, Vortimer…*sniff*…Is this really ok?” Gurguit asks, head still in Vortimer’s lap, face still streaked with tears.

“Yeah, it’s ok.  Do you feel any better now?”

“mm….yeah.  Sorry to be such a bother again…”

“It’s alright, you’re not a bother…and to be completely honest, I also feel somewhat responsible for the actions of the Shadow Paladin separatists…If I had been there—“

“It’s not your fault.”

“…I know.”

Neither of them speak for a minute or so.

“……Vortimer?”  Gurguit finally breaks the silence.

“Hmm?”

“I like you.”

That came out of nowhere, Vortimer thinks.  “You’re still drunk.”

“Really, I like you.”

“…”

“Vortimer?”

“Yeah?”

“Your name sounds familiar…have I heard of you somewhere before?”  Gurguit asks, somewhat absentmindedly, while playing with a strand of Vortimer’s hair.

“No, you must have mistaken me for someone else.”  Vortimer replies firmly, though sweating nervously…not that Gurguit noticed.

“…”

“…”

“…Vortimer?”

“???”

“Don’t leave yet…”  Gurguit, head still in Vortimer’s lap, clings onto his arm as well.

“I’ll stay for a while longer.”

“Spend the night here, ok?  You can sleep in my bed…”

“You can ask me that when you’re sober.”  Vortimer is sure Gurguit isn’t thinking straight right now.

“I’m not that drunk.” Gurguit whines.

“…”

“Vortimer?”

“Yes?”

“I really really like you.”

Vortimer can’t tell if he’s serious or not anymore.  Gurguit’s been entirely honest this whole time, but also…he can’t be serious…can he? 

“* _ sigh _ * Tell me that when you’re sober.”

The short exchanges continue for a while, until Gurguit’s finally asleep again.  Vortimer gets up to change out of the rest of his own under armor clothing, grabbing a more comfy looking shirt out of his bag.

He sits down in the corner of the room, and takes out an envelope with the Shadow Paladins emblem on it.  The letters contained within were from Blaster Dark himself. These letters described the events that had been recorded in history while Vortimer was asleep.  They detailed the movements of the Shadow Paladins still loyal to the king. They told Vortimer everything he needed to know, and what to do when he woke up. Plain and simple, straight to the point; much like Yunos himself.

Vortimer reads the letters once more, finding relief in the fact that they were not written too long ago.  He walks over to the window to look at the city’s lights. It’s been about a week since he woke up in that basement, simultaneously anxious that over a hundred years had passed since he last saw the light of day, and grateful that he had been able to wake up at all.  Only today did he finally feel like he’s learned something of what the nation was like in this era. For every single thing that’s changed, there’s even more things that haven’t really changed. Good things, and bad.

 

* * *

 

It’s about two hours later when Gurguit finally wakes up…sober this time.   _ “Ugh, my head feels weird…what time is it?  Where am—right, I’m back in my apartment……!!!...Is he still here?!” _

He sits up and looks across the room, and there’s Vortimer, sitting next to the window.  The wind blows his hair back from his shoulders a bit, and suddenly Gurguit is strangely aware of the low cut shirt Vortimer was wearing, and how nice his collarbones were.

“Did you have a nice nap?”

“Y-yes…you’re still here?” Gurguit asks, slightly surprised that Vortimer hasn’t simply left while he was asleep.

“You asked me not to leave yet.  I was worried about you, so I didn’t.”

“T-Thanks…”

“By the way, you said a few…other…things earlier as well.  Do you…still remember?” Vortimer asks this in a tone of curiosity and slight concern.

“Huh?......!!!”  The initial confusion displayed on Gurguit’s face quickly becomes full on embarrassment as he remembers his drunken rambling earlier.  His face turns red, and this time, not from alcohol or gratuitous crying. “You can disregard everything I said about that earlier if it makes you uncomfo—“

“So, did you still want me to spend the night?”

“Y-y-yes…”  Gurguit thinks he could die of embarrassment right now, or happiness.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Vortimer wakes up at the crack of dawn.  He gets dressed, dons his armor quietly, grabs his bag and leaves, turning back only to take one more look at Gurguit’s still sleeping face.

The early morning air is cool and refreshing.  It blows against his face as he rides towards the city outskirts.  Vortimer is glad that he’s leaving the capital with the knowledge that it was in good and capable hands.   _ “The knights of this era…I can entrust the future to you…with that…I can continue to fight from the shadows…” _

 

* * *

 

Gurguit wakes up a bit later than usual that morning.  The first thing he registers is that not only is his slight headache from yesterday not gone, the rest of his body is also aching.  He’s not sure if it’s a weird hangover, mana overuse, fatigue from utilizing Stride, or…something else. Neither does he have time to think about it; he’s late for morning training.

He drags himself out of bed and a folded up paper that was next to him falls to the ground.  He stops to pick it up and read it.

As he finishes reading, he smiles, and carefully folds it back the way it was, and places it into his desk drawer.  Gurguit lays back down on his bed, and after a few minutes, picks up his phone and quick dials a number.

 

“Hey, Bradott?  I’m not feeling well today, gonna skip morning training.”

“Oh?  That’s unusual for you.  You usually drag yourself to practice even on days where you look more dead than alive.”

“Yeah, I think maybe that’s been a bad idea actually…”

Bradott gives a relieved laugh “And here I thought you might be gravely ill!  So the day has come when even you have learned to properly take care of yourself?”

“Was I that bad at that?”

“Hahaha, just ask the others!  Anyways, rest well for today. I’ll let the others know you’re out for the day!”

“Thanks, Bradott.”

“Take care.”

Gurguit sinks into his pillow ( _ “It smells nice..”  _ ) and crawls back under the covers.  He’s achy and sore, but he’s actually in a pretty good mood today.  He sets an alarm for 11:30am to go check on his troop later, and goes back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I was going to commission someone to write this...but then the 'prompt' got too long and specific for me to subject anyone else to writing this niche AF stuff. I haven't written fic in AGES, but I had to try my best for this!
> 
> Hopefully it was enjoyable to read!


End file.
